First Names and First Kisses
by bean15
Summary: 2008 movieverse. after grand prix. spoilers! everyone knows about speedy, but what about the trusty sidekick sparky? it's his turn now. this is a story about his real name, and maybe, just maybe, a little romance for the sparkster. R&R...1st SR fanfic..
1. Nice Car

Ok…so how many Speed Racer movie fans (who hadn't watched the show) know Sparky's real name

Ok…so how many Speed Racer **movie** fans (who hadn't watched the show) know Sparky's real name?

How many people who did watch the show know Sparky's real name?

Come on, no parent in their right mind would actually name their kid "Sparky."

Drum roll please. Sparky's real name is Wilson Sparkolomew. Get where the nickname comes from? I'll admit it, I only watched a few of the old cartoons, back when Cartoon Network was rerunning them. I always knew Sparky was a nickname, but never knew about Wilson.

Come on, you know there's an interesting story in there. Wilson Sparkolomew is actually a pretty cool name as names go…why the need for a nickname?

And what if good old Sparky ever met someone that he wanted to know him by his real name?

I struggled with myself on which to write, but then (after grudgingly studying the French Revolution) I decided I could have my cake and eat it too.

I'm going to tell both. Yes, that's right, both.

those of you who read my other stories with gusto, I promise I'll get back to them relatively soon. I can only type at work…my home computer is beyond busted. And those darn plot bunnies won't leave me alone. They've taken up residence under my bed actually. It's driving me crazy.

those of you who are kind enough to or to enjoy this story…let me know. I have another story somewhere in the back of my mind that's begging to be written. With Sparks, of course. He needs more love.

One more pesky author note: those of you who read my MTR stuff…and who like random interruptions by characters…that might happen in future Speed Racer author notes. I can't control these people (or chimps) once they're in my head.

Ok, ok. Enough of me. All that's left is my favorite part of my author notes, the random fun fact. (I think when you take time out of homework or studying to read fanfiction…as I do quite a lot) you should learn something.

Random Fun Fact: The pop tab on your 12-oz soda can is actually made of more aluminum than the entire can.

On with the story!!

* * *

The phone had been ringing off the hook all day, just as it had been all week. All month, in fact. Racer Motors had more orders than it could handle.

Inspector Detector had done all he could to influence the media, and it had worked. The papers had actually printed Speed's decision to remain with Racer Motors, never to sign with any other conglomerate. Not only did other honest racers want to get their parts from Pops, but regular families went to the family as well.

Sparky and Pops were kept busy all day filling orders, occasionally taking the help offered by Trixie or Speed. Even though there was so much work, Pops was still adamant about one thing. "The quality of Racer Motors will never, and I mean never, drop. As long as I have anything to say about it, no one ordering from us will go out on that track with a shoddy car."

"Whatever you say, Pops," said Speed as he kissed his mother and went off to bed. Sparky just nodded blearily and fell onto the couch exhausted. Pops cringed; Sparky was covered in grease and the couch would probably be ruined. Mom just put her hand on his shoulder. "Let him sleep, honey. He's had a long day."

"Long month, more like."

"It's been five months since the Grand Prix, and the orders haven't stopped. Not that I think that's a bad thing," she added after seeing the look on her husband's face. "I'm just saying it's been a lot of work for everyone. Especially you and Sparky." Mom and Pops looked at Sparky, sprawled across the couch, fast asleep after lying down for only a minute. Mom paused then spoke. "Honey, do you think you should get another mechanic?"

Pops blustered. "Absolutely not! Sparky's the best, and besides, he's family. I'll never hire someone else."

"Honey, I didn't mean it like that. I only meant hiring someone else who could work with you _and_ with Sparky. You know, another pair of hands in the shop. Someone else who could make your days easier, and your nights longer," she said with a meaningful look at their worn out mechanic.

Pops shrugged. "It's not a _bad_ idea," he conceded. Mom smiled. "All I'm asking you to do is think about it honey. For your sake. And for his."

"He's who I'm worried about. I don't want him to think that we think he's not capable."

"Honey, it's just too much work for two people. If it helps, you could ask him to help interview new candidates with you, and give him veto power."

"You always know what to do about everything. How do you do that?"

"It's a mom thing."

* * *

Spritle came stumbling out of his room around ten the next morning when he smelled pancakes. He grinned when he saw Sparky still asleep on the couch. "Mom, can I have Sparky's pancakes?"

"You certainly can not. Speed, go wake up Sparky before Spritle tries to steal his pancakes right off his plate."

"He's not in his room, Mom. I thought he was already up."

"He's on the couch, if I'm not mistaken." He was. But before Speed could get to him, the living room phone, which happened to be on the table not two feet from Sparky's head, began to ring. Sparky groaned. He rolled over and put a pillow over his head. "Five more minutes," he mumbled.

"Why? It's already ten o'clock, Sparkles," laughed Speed. "What?!" Sparky jumped up and ran into the kitchen apologizing. "Pops, I am so sorry I overslept, I'll get right into the shop right away, I promise, and I'm not gonna oversleep again, I swear, I—"

Pops laughed and put up a hand. "I hope I'm not that mean of a boss."

"Sparky stopped mid-apology. "What?"

"It's Saturday, Sparky. Everyone's entitled to sleep in once in a while. And judging from the way you fell on that couch last night, you needed the sleep." Sparky blushed. "Thanks."

Right on cue, Trixie walked in the front door, just as the finished pancakes were being set on the table. "Morning, everyone. Speed up yet?"

"Right here, baby." Speed pulled her in close and dipped her in an early-morning version of their Hollywood after-Grand-Prix kiss. Spritle made gagging motions, but Sparky just rolled his eyes. Some things never changed.

It wasn't until halfway through breakfast that Pops broached the topic of another mechanic. "Sparky, I want to talk to you about something. Now don't get all worried over nothing. Mom and I think you're the best mechanic anywhere." Sparky opened his mouth to speak, but Pops cut him off. "And it's not because you slept in this morning." Sparky sighed. "Then what?"

"You know better than anyone how much work has been pouring in since the Prix." Sparky nodded. "It's too much work for two people, even though we are the two best people in the business. What do you think about hiring another mechanic, someone who would work with both of us, just to lighten the load?"

Sparky sat, torn between relief and doubt. He would welcome another pair of hands, as long as they were reliable and talented, but what would another person do to the perfected chemistry of the shop?

"Well, I think it's a great idea," said Speed. Trixie nodded. "Me too. In fact, I could even give you a coupe names, Pops."

"Whoa, Trix," said Sparky. "I appreciate it, but they'd better know what they're doing. Pops, I don't mind someone else here, I just don't want to have to teach anyone anything."

Spritle snorted. "You, teach?"

"Spritle, stop." said Pops. "Sparky, would you feel better if you helped me interview people? And if you aren't impressed with someone, they're not going to get the job. You'll get the final word."

"Me?"

"Sparky, you're the best mechanic there is, I know it. I trust you."

"Wow, Pops, I… thanks."

* * *

It was decided. Starting Monday, Pops and Sparky would begin trying to find another mechanic. Spritle snorted again. "Lots of luck."

"And what's that supposed to mean, young man?"

"Nuthin', Mom. Just that Sparky's the best. That's all."

* * *

"You know, Sparky, I hate to say it, but I think Spritle may be right. It's been a week, and we haven't found anyone even remotely good enough for Racer Motors!"

While this was true, Sparky had really warmed up to the suggestion of help around the shop, and he was not ready to give up on the idea. "Come on, Pops. We'll find someone. Thank goodness it's Saturday, though, right? No work to do." Sparky stretched his tired and sore arms.

Pops got up to close the outer garage door to the shop to remove the temptation of doing any more work on a Saturday, but Sparky stopped him. "Hold up a minute." He pointed down the street at an approaching car. "Do you see that?" Pops nodded, and they both stared as the car drove up the street and stopped right in front of the garage.

To their surprise, a very attractive young woman got out and asked, "Is this Racer Motors?"

Sparky's mouth hung open, staring at the car. Pops smiled, and answered in his business voice. "Yes, ma'am, it is Racer Motors. What can we do for you?"

"Well—"

"Nice car." Sparky had found his vocal cords. The young woman smiled. "Thanks.1973 Plymouth Superbird."

"I thought this model looked a bit old," said Pops.

"This thing's nearly forty years old?" asked Sparky. "It looks brand new!"

"Thanks. Fixed it up myself."

Sparky exchanged a look with Pops. But before he decided to completely believe her, he had a question. "If you fixed it up so well yourself, why're you coming to us?"

She smiled. She'd had plenty of experience with boys who doubted her skill with cars. "Broken axle under the rear wheels. I'd fix it myself, but I don't have my tools."

Sparky frowned. "No self-respecting mechanic ever goes anywhere without his tools." He paused. "Or her tools."

"Fair enough. My father took them. Yes, all of them. He thinks I'm wasting my life fixing cars. I live more than a thousand miles away from here. We had a huge fight, and after I told him that this was all I wanted to do, he kicked me out. I just did what made sense. I jumped in my car and drove until something broke. Actually, I'm kind of glad the axle broke here. Word on the street and in the papers is that you guys are the best."

Sparky blushed, but before he or Pops could offer to help fix her problem, Speed crashed in through the house door. "Pops, what on earth are you two doing in here that's more important that Mom's pancakes? Oh…" Speed trailed off as he saw the car. "Whoa! Who drives that work of art?"

"I do."

Speed smiled his trademark grin, shook her hand, and said, "And who do I have the pleasure of meeting this morning?" She smiled. "Must have left my manners at home. My name is Emma De Lacey. Nice to meet you."

"You too. I'm Speed. Speed Racer." Emma's jaw dropped. "No way! The real Speed Racer? Youngest winner of the Grand Prix in history? You do know you're the first honest winner in about forever, right?" Speed nodded. "Speed Racer, Racer Motors…I can't believe I didn't connect the two."

"It's ok. You said you're not from around here?"

"Yeah. Just decided that I needed a different life." Sparky almost corrected her and told Speed the real story, but he stopped himself in time. She had valid reasons for not wanting Speed to know she'd been kicked out of her own house. "Hey Speed," he said, "do you think maybe Pops and I could help her fix her car now?"

"Hold on just a minute there. Are you Speed's mechanic too?" Sparky grinned sheepishly. "Yeah. Why?"

"Can I get your autograph?"

"Don't you want to direct that question to Speed?"

"Not really. I mean, Speed, you rock, but you…wow. You actually work on the Mach 6. That car is quite possibly the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I mean, you actually…wow. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I don't even know your name. It's never been in any of the papers, not even the Racing Chronicle. If you're going to help me fix my car, I've got to know your name."

He stuck out his hand for her to shake. "Wilson Sparkolomew."

Speed doubled up in laughter. Sparky closed his eyes and winced. Almost in tears from laughing so hard, Speed said, "Jeez, Sparky, if you're gonna make up a name, at least make up a good one!" Sparky looked down and went red. Emma put her hand on his shoulder, making him look up at her. But before she could ask him anything, Pops stepped in.

"Speed, that _is_ his real name."

Speed was so shocked he stumbled back a few steps, and as a result, he promptly tripped over a box of engine parts and landed rear end first in the trash bin. Pops grinned. "Serves you right."

Speed just looked at Sparky. "For serious? Wilson Spark-…sorry. Wilson Sparkolomew is really your real name?" Sparky sighed. He'd forgotten how much people laughed. "Yes, Speed, that is my real name."

"Why didn't you tell me?" asked Speed. Sparky pointed at the trash can. "Oh," said Speed. "Right. So where'd the nickname come from?"

But before Sparky could launch into an explanation, Mom called everyone in for pancakes. Emma thought this was as good a time as any to politely duck out. Pops wouldn't hear of it. "Come in and have breakfast with us. There's plenty of pancakes for all of us." Emma protested, but they assured her it was certainly no trouble at all.

Speed lifted himself from the mercifully empty trash bin and said, "Come on, Sparky, last one in has to sit next to Chim Chim!"

Sparky winced at that thought, then turned to Emma. At the look on her face, he said, "Don't worry. The whole family's called me Sparky for…well, practically forever. Pops and Mrs. Racer are the only ones who knew my real name."

Emma looked a little bit relieved. She had felt badly for him when Speed was teasing him. But she saw his good nature, and knew that it was teasing between friends. "Are you sure it's all right for me to eat with you all?"

"Don't worry, the Racers are great. Everyone's gonna love you." Sparky grinned. "Besides, it's worth almost anything to get some of Mrs. Racer's pancakes."

It was Emma's turn to grin. "I think you just said the magic words. Pancakes are my favorite. Being on the road for…well, I haven't had any good ones in a while." Sparky hesitantly put a hand on her shoulder.

He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do to comfort her, or if she was even asking for comfort at all. He'd never been great with girls. Speed's introduction with Emma was enough to remind him of that. Even though Speed had a steady girlfriend, he could still turn on the charm whenever he wanted.

Apparently, the hand on the shoulder was the right thing, as she looked up and smiled. As he held the door open for her, she said, "Okay, you've got to tell me how Wilson Sparkolomew became 'Sparky.' By the way, why did you use your real name with me?" Sparky paused. "I guess I wanted to be taken seriously for a minute." He laughed. "Guess I have the wrong name for that."

"What do you want me to call you?"

"Sparky's fine. The whole family calls me that, they always have. And as for the story, d'you mind if I wait about five minutes to tell it? I have a feeling the rest of the family's going to want to hear it too, and it's not really one I feel like telling twice."

"All right. Hey, Sparky, one more question."

"Ask away."

"Who's Chim Chim?"

Sparky stopped in his tracks. "He's…well, he's…hmm. I hate to disappoint you, but I think you'll just have to wait and see. Chim Chim…well, he defies explanation. So does Spritle, but that's for an _entirely_ different reason."

"Spritle?"

"Speed's little brother."

"Okay, no one in this family has a right to make fun of your name."

Sparky laughed. "Thanks. I'll remember that." He looked at his watch. "We'd better hurry up if we want any pancakes at all, let alone hot ones." He gestured inside with his free hand. "After you." They both went in the house and into the kitchen, where Mom Racer had kept their pancakes away from prying forks and kept them hot.

Mom turned around and said, "Well, goodness Sparky, you didn't tell us you were having company. Who is this beautiful young lady?"

"Yeah Sparkles," said Trixie, who had as usual come to the Racer house for breakfast. "She's cute. Really cute. Where'd you find her?"

Sparky went bright red for the second time that morning. He tried to stammer out an answer, but he was getting nowhere fast. Emma jumped in. "I was out for a drive and my car sort of broke down. I was lucky enough to be in front of Racer Motors, and Sparky and Mr. Racer were nice enough to offer to fix my car. We only met about ten minutes ago."

Mom smiled. "Well, that's no reason not to have breakfast with us. Come here, dear, and you can sit between Speed and Sparky. Now, what should we call you?"

"Emma. My name's Emma De Lacey. And thank you so much for inviting me in for breakfast Mrs. Racer. It's…this is really nice."

"Oh, honey, please, call me Mom, everyone does. Now, everybody, eat those pancakes. And there are plenty more if anyone wants them." Before Emma had a chance to thank Mrs. Racer for all of her kindnesses, Spritle piped up with his usual antics. " 'Sparkles?' I'm totally gonna start calling you that!"

Sparky pushed Spritle's hand away from the syrup as he said, "You call me that _once_ and you won't reach your next birthday." The whole family laughed.

Once everyone was settled, Emma spoke up. "Hey Sparky, are you ever going to tell that story? How did you get your nickname?"

"What nickname?" asked Spritle.

"Oh boy," said Sparky. "Here we go. All right, all right. But only because Emma asked. It all started when I was five…"

* * *

YAY!! 1st chapter done. Sure took me long enough to write. And got one part of me self-challenge done. Sparks has met someone that he wants (at least at first) to know his real name.

Now for the story behind it………see chapter 2.

Please review. It would make my world so much brighter. Reviews are greatly appreciated. I don't know any other ways to ask you wonderfully nice people to review…no flames please. There are nice ways to say that this was not your particular cup of tea. (unlike the critics that said the SR movie was like pouring molten starbursts into your corneas…grrr…..)

You get a really big cookie if you can send me a review and tell me that you recognize Emma's car… (it is in one of my other stories, but that's not where you're supposed to recognize it from…this car is famous!) You'll get more hints in later chapters, but if you can guess now, you're really good!

If you got this far without navigating to another page, thanks for putting up with me and my plot bunnies! You rock.

Peace out, girl scouts!

beanie


	2. Real Name and an Almost Kiss

Hey everyone

Hey everyone…. I'm terribly sorry for the long wait for this chapter…getting through the end of senior year and moving in to college was way more hectic than I thought it would be. But I'm finally settled, and I had a phone call from one of my dear friends yesterday telling me that I'd better post or else.

Again, terribly sorry. I hope this chapter starts to make up for my (inadvertent) negligence.

Random Fact: Greensboro, NC has more Quakers per capita than Philadelphia, PA. Who would have guessed that?

Btw, this chapter is dedicated to my friend Bella. You know who you are…

Love always, Shail

* * *

"Oh boy," said Sparky. "Here we go. All right, all right. But only because Emma asked. It all started when I was five…"

"What started when you were five?" asked Spritle. Sparky sighed. This was gonna be a long breakfast. And why did this story have to come up in front of the most incredible girl he'd met in years? She was beautiful, sweet, kind, and she certainly knew her way around a garage. That much was certain by the masterpiece that she drove. If only she would let him look under the hood…

This line of thoughts was quickly interrupted by Spritle repeatedly poking his arm, begging to hear the story that Sparky had begun to tell.

"Sparkyyyy," he whined. "Finish it! You barely started!"

"That's because you keep interrupting him," quipped Trixie. "Go on, Sparky. We're listening."

"That's what I'm afraid of," he mumbled, so quietly that no one could hear him. Or so he thought.

Emma had heard this, and she didn't quite know what to make of it. From what she knew, granted it wasn't much, Sparky seemed to be pretty laid back, so whatever had happened must be pretty embarrassing for him. She gently squeezed his hand, and was extremely surprised when he looked up and blushed slightly before squeezing back.

"Might as well get this over with," he began. "When I was about five—"

"You said that already!"

"Spritle! Let him talk!"

"Fine…"

"All right. When I was five, I started to really get into cars. I mean, I had always sat with my dad to watch the races, especially Thunderhead, but I had never really had the idea of being a mechanic until I saw Tracy McGee on TV that year. She was the mechanic for Tucker Gauges."

"I remember her," said Pops. "Tucker is one of the only honest companies left."

Sparky nodded. "Anyway, all of a sudden I wanted to be just like her, and I got obsessed with cars, and how they worked. I started building little models, mostly out of scrap I found lying around."

"I don't see what's so important about model cars," said Spritle, still miffed that he didn't know exactly why this dumb story was being told in the first place.

Before Pops could lose his temper, Emma stepped in and gently said, "He's getting there, Spritle." Sparky looked at her gratefully. She smiled back, and he had to concentrate not to forget what he was talking about.

He remembered where he was in the story, and he winced. This was the part he hated. He glanced at Mom and Pops, and started again.

"I know you two know this, but the others might not. I, well…I didn't have the greatest relationship with my dad. He…he thought the whole mechanic thing was a total waste of time. Two months into my model phase, he told me that it was a useless career and I'd never amount to anything in it anyway. Said I wasn't smart enough. I wanted to prove him wrong, so I decided to make a model car that moved. I tried the whole battery thing, but I couldn't get it to work. Didn't want to accept what he said, though."

Here, he paused again, and Emma noticed his fists were clenched, like these memories were actually hurting him. They probably were. She should know, having experienced something extremely similar only a few weeks ago.

"Jeez, Sparky, I had no idea," said Speed.

"It's all right Speed." He shook his head a little, as if to clear the bed memories, and resumed his story.

"After the batteries, I realized I had to seriously think this one out. Eventually, I decided to use the sockets in the living room to transfer the electricity into the car wiring."

Here, everyone at the breakfast table winced, and Mom gasped. "Sparky, oh honey, you could have been killed!"

Sparky was touched, as he always was, by Mom's concern, as well as the rest of the family's. "I'm still here, aren't I?" he joked. "Anyway, I was trying to use a wire to transfer the electricity, and my dad walked in to watch the news just as I had the wire, and my fingers, in the socket." More gasps.

"He turned on the light to watch the news, and…well…you can probably guess the rest."

"The rest of what?" asked Spritle. "Hey, I was good, wasn't I? I didn't say nuthin' since the last time I interrupted!"

In the face of this flawless logic, Sparky couldn't help but crack a grin. "Spritle, this whole thing started because Speed and Emma wanted to know where my nickname came from."

"Oh yeah…what nickname?"

Sparky paused, then winced. Spritle hadn't been in the garage. He'd have to say his name again.

"Spritle, Sparky _is_ my nickname. My real name is Wilson…Wilson Sparkolomew." He bit his lip, waiting for the barrage of laughter that was a certainty.

Spritle frowned slightly, then shrugged. "Okay."

"Okay what?"

"Okay. If that's your name, then that's your name. Nuthin' I can do about it." He suddenly looked panic-stricken. "Can I still call you Sparky?" he asked with urgency.

So completely happy to not be ridiculed, Sparky grinned. "Of course you can."

* * *

_**THREE HOURS LATER…**_

Still in the jeans and shirt she'd come in, Emma was in the garage, lying on a skateboard, underneath her car, explaining exactly what was wrong. Pops and Sparky were on either side of her, similarly on skateboards underneath Emma's car, and mentally taking notes.

Pops was taking mental note of the car: what was wrong, how they could fix it, and how to make it better than it was when it came to their capable hands.

Sparky was taking mental note of Emma: how she looked, how she sounded, how she smelled… He knew it was kind of a low thing to do, but he knew Pops was listening to her, and he also knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he would never be this close to her again.

Regardless of the fact that Speed already had a girlfriend, Emma would likely be attracted to him. Sparky had seen it over and over again. And even if she wasn't like those other girls, girls who looked like Emma never paid any serious attention to guys like him.

_Then again_, said a little voice in his head, _girls who look like Emma are rarely decent mechanics, and rarely drive cars like this one. _

Emma was saying something. Sparky decided he should listen.

"I know you guys said you would fix everything for me, and believe me, I trust you both, but I really do insist on helping you."

Pops stepped in before Emma went any father. "Don't worry. Believe me Emma, if it was my car, I'd insist on helping too. Not just for personal reasons, but there is definitely something to be said for fixing your own car. You want to know every inch of this car, and we fully understand and respect that. Don't we Sparky?"

Sparky nodded. "Course. I wouldn't let anybody else touch my car. Especially if I drove this masterpiece."

Emma smiled. She loved it when people appreciated her car for the incredible machine it was.

Pops looked at the two young people in front of him. Even if they couldn't sense it yet, he could. There was real chemistry here, and one of these days it was going to spark a reaction. He smiled, shook his head, rolled his eyes, and quietly left the garage to let Sparky talk to Emma alone, something he hadn't had the chance to do yet.

"So…" said Sparky, dimly aware that Pops had left the garage, leaving him alone with Emma, "Where'd you get this car anyway?" He figured this was a safe topic.

She smiled. "I won it. Won it at a very lucky hand of poker."

Sparky whistled. "I wish I had that kind of luck. This thing's amazing."

"Yeah, it used to be a stockcar. Kind of obvious, with the number of the side, huh?"

Sparky looked, and sure enough, there was a large number _43_ painted on the side, beneath the starting edge of the spoiler, outlined in red that matched the body's light blue painter perfectly. Whoever designed this car really was brilliant.

While he had been admiring the car, he'd been moving closer to Emma, as she'd been stationary, standing on the floor with one foot resting gently on her skateboard, one hand resting on her car. He hadn't realized how close they were until he turned his head to look at her and there she was, not more than ten inches from his face.

She looked at him, smiling awkwardly at her, and she smiled back.

_I must be absolutely crazy_, he thought. _Or dreaming. Yeah. I've got to be dreaming. Oh well. Long as I'm dreaming, I might as well go for it._

He leaned in a little. So did she. He leaned in a little more. So did she. They kept leaning, their faces inches, centimeters apart. Then…

The door to the garage suddenly banged against the wall as Speed came into the garage, looking for Pops.

The noise was enough to distract Sparky and Emma from themselves, and Emma's foot slipped from the skateboard. She expected to find herself flat on the concrete, but Sparky's strong arms had caught her before she fell.

"Oh, sorry guys," came Speed's apologetic voice. "I was just looking for Pops. I'll let you guys get back to the car. Unless you're finished already…" he trailed off, and went back in the house, completely unaware of what he had interrupted.

Sparky awkwardly helped Emma back to her feet. She unnecessarily dusted off her jeans, and Sparky stammered out an attempt to ask her if she was all right. She assured him that she was.

"Thanks for catching me."

"S-sure. N-n-no problem. Do you want to…" He wasn't sure what to do.

"Go back in the house?" she asked, even though she would rather stay in the garage with Sparky.

Sparky sighed. He knew he wasn't dreaming. He should have known that he wouldn't have actually gotten to kiss her. Life never worked out for him that well. Still, it had seemed like she wanted that kiss as much as he did. Well, maybe not that much.

He abruptly realized that Emma was awaiting an answer from him. "Yeah," he sighed. "We should probably go back in. They might send someone looking for us, and I don't know if my reflexes are good enough to catch you again."

She just smiled that crazy smile of hers that made him go weak in the knees. "Oh, Sparky." She grinned. "I have faith in you. I know you'd catch me." She quickly leaned in and gave him a brief hug before quickly heading for the garage door and going in the house, leaving Sparky standing in the center of the garage, and very confused, and with only one thought in his mind: _what on earth had just happened?_

* * *

Second chapter done!

So much for the almost kiss…and so much for how the Sparkster got his nickname.

Don't worry, there will be a kiss in there somewhere…one that actually qualifies for a kiss. I promise.

Til the next chapter…R&R please!!

Happy trails,

beanie


	3. A Best Friend and A Villain

**Hey everyone! Again, I'm sorry it's been ages since I updated, but college is busy. **

**Who knew? =D**

**I had about 12 papers due this week, not to mention all the work to sign up for fall classes and to get permission to stay at school this summer and take some more classes… whew! And to get ready for my Ireland trip in May… to my dear friend Bella, I'll do my best to get you a little something if we actually make it to any gift-shop kind of places… love you chica!**

**As a note to all those reading this story, just wanted to let you know that Emma de lacey is NOT a Mary-Sue… she does actually have flaws, and she's not perfect… she **_**is**_** completely full of awesome, but she's not a Mary-Sue. There are plot twists that will come in this and later chapters… she has valid reasons for running away from home and ending up at the Racers, not to mention that she's not exactly as sweet and innocent as you think she might be…. That's all I'll say about it for now… **

**This chapter is dedicated to my amazing friend Bella (you know exactly who you are). Glad I found 'your car' on FB, huh? Hugs to you, Bella, from Shail. **

**Random note: there is a word in this chapter that I did not invent by myself… "Whomperguana". My roommate came up with this word… not mine… I am using it with permission. If you'd like to know the story behind the origins of this word, just message me… I'll tell. =D**

**Here's chapter 3… **

**Random Fact: ****Vikings**** used the skulls of their enemies as drinking vessels.** **ew.**

**Chapter 3!!!!!**

* * *

—_TWO MONTHS LATER—_

_Emma and Sparky stood in the shop, near her '73 Plymouth Superbird discussing the repairs and new modifications Pops had proposed. Suddenly she looked up at him and in that moment she looked more beautiful than he had ever seen her. He leaned in to kiss her and he was less than a centimeter away when…_

_**B-R-R-R-ING!!!!!!!!**_

The alarm clock went off very close to Sparky's ears. He abruptly woke up from his dream and re-entered reality. He sighed in disappointment. He'd been having this dream almost every night for the last two months, and even in his dreams he'd still never gotten to kiss her.

Emma had moved into the Racer's house after Mom had discovered her lack of a home. She'd set up her things in the guest room and had been working in the shop with Sparky and Pops nearly every day. It had started as simply helping out with her own car, then others as she saw how tired Sparky was at the end of every day. Then it became her way of "paying rent," as she called it. Pops had told her it wasn't necessary, but she had insisted.

Once she'd been in the shop for more than a few days, her skills became evident. She was a better mechanic than she'd let on, and before they knew it, she had become the second mechanic Pops had been looking for. She and Sparky worked well in the shop together, but neither of them mentioned their "almost kiss." Sparky wasn't sure that it would even have turned into a kiss. And even though they'd become good friends, he still felt like she was the unattainable angel.

Sparky shook his head and got up, got dressed, and headed out to the kitchen for breakfast before he had to go to the shop. There were seven orders that had to be filled by the end of next week. He got a shock when he entered the kitchen and saw Emma talking with another girl and Mrs. Racer.

After twenty minutes of introductions with the entire family, Sparky had learned several things about this newcomer. Her name was Andromeda, but he shouldn't call her that unless he had a death wish. Emma had rolled her eyes at her friend when she had said this, but Andy, as she preferred to be called, replied with her hands on her hips. "You'd hate your name too if your fool of a mother called you 'Andromeda!'" They'd all laughed. He learned that Emma and Andy had been friends since they were seven years old, and that Andy had a habit of driving T-180's. Emma said she was good, so she must be.

Andy smiled at everyone, and said, "So, what are y'all doing today?"

"Working," said Sparky. "Our usual amount of orders have tripled since the Grand Prix."

Andy smiled. "So I heard." She grinned at Emma, who replied with a grin of her own, "I've got to go work too, Andy."

"Oh no you don't," said Mom. "Pops and Sparky can deal without you for a few hours. You should spend some time with your friend. I know she's staying in town for a few weeks, but spend some time with her this morning before things get too busy around here."

Emma smiled and thanked Mom, but turned to Sparky. "Sparks, are you okay with this? I mean, I know we have a lot of orders right now…" She trailed off, but Sparky grinned. This was the first time she'd referred to Racer Motors as 'we.' He put his hand on her shoulder. "Course, Em. Spend time with Andy. I'll see you in a few hours. Lunch together?"

"All right." She smiled. "Thanks, Sparks."

* * *

Mom spent the morning in the kitchen. Spritle went to school, driven by Speed of course, and Pops and Sparky went to the shop. Emma and Andy plopped themselves down on the yellow and red couch to catch up. Andy had been working for Tucker Gauges, an honest motor company, for the past few years. Her parents had no problems with her interest in cars.

"So Emma," began Andy, "What's going on between you and Sparky?"

"Andy!" said Emma, hitting her friend's shoulder.

"Well? Are you gonna tell me or am I gonna have to drag it out of you?"

Emma sighed. "Believe me Andy, if there was something going on, I would tell you. Don't look at me like that! Andy, I promise you, there's nothing going on between me and Sparks."

"But you want there to be something."

It wasn't a question, but Emma answered it anyway. "Yes. I do. I- I almost kissed him once."

"Almost?" yelled Andy.

"Stop, keep your voice down, Andy, please."

"Jeez, fine. What happened girl? Why in the name of Thunderhead did you stop at almost?"

Emma sighed again. "We almost kissed the first day we met."

"Why the heck didn't you?"

"Will you let me finish?"

"Fine," she said and crossed her arms.

"Thank you," said Emma. "Anyway, we were going to kiss, and I really though it was going to happen, but Speed barreled into the shop just as we were about to kiss. Not that he realized that he interrupted anything…not that I'm even sure we would have kissed."

"And what's that supposed to mean, chica?"

"After Speedy left, Sparks seemed like he just wanted to go back in the house."

Andy sighed, exasperated that Emma couldn't see that this Sparky was obviously head over heels for her, he was just a little bit shy. When Andy relayed this information, Emma slapped her friend again with a smile on her face and said, "I wish."

* * *

While Emma was pouring her heart out to her best friend and giggling and sighing like a seventh grade girl, Sparky was helping Pops put a fresh coat of emerald green paint on three cars ordered by a team called Whomperguana, an honest team that devoted much of their time, energy, and profits to fixing environmental issues. He and Pops were painting all three cars at the same time, in order to minimize the drying times and to maximize the amount of time they had to work on other orders.

Sparky sat on the concrete, staring absentmindedly at his spray gun while he waited for it to fill up. He hadn't noticed that it had finished filling up twenty minutes ago.

"Sparky!"

Sparky jumped about a foot, nearly knocking over the giant can of green paint in the process. "What is it Pops?" Pops Racer looked at his long-time mechanic, who was still stunned from Pops' yell and smiled. "Tell her how you feel, Sparky."

"Tell who what?" Shaken out of his reverie, he was still genuinely confused. Pops just grinned. "Sparky, you've got to tell Emma how you feel about her. She's been here for two months now, and you haven't scared her off yet. Besides, I'm pretty sure she likes you too."

Sparky sighed. "Please Pops, don't tease me about this. I- I know it's been affecting my work a bit, and I'm sorry, I won't let it happen again, I-"

Pops put a hand up to cut him off. "Sparky, I'm not mad at you."

"I- you're not?"

"No, of course not. I'm happy for you. I just wish you'd hurry up and tell that girl how you feel before she goes crazy."

"Pops, what are you talking about?"

"You may not see it, but I can, and so can Mom. That girl is head over heels for you. And before you get too worked up trying to deny that she is, look me in the eye and try to tell me that you don't feel the same way."

Sparky opened his mouth to reply, to deny how he felt, simply out of habit of denying it to himself, but one look at Pops' face and he knew he couldn't deny it anymore. He sighed. "What do I do?"

Pops smiled, and was reminded of having an almost identical conversation with Speed before he asked Trixie out on their first date. Of course Speed had been twelve and here was Sparky at twenty-three, but the general idea was the same. "Talk to her alone. You know this family, this is not a conversation that you can have while they're listening in."

"Pops, you know this family too, how am I ever going to get more than a minute and a half alone with her?" Sparky thought he'd stumped Pops with this one, but Pops had spent the last two months trying to figure out a way for Sparky to have a few minutes alone with Emma. "Tomorrow at breakfast," he said. Sparky opened his mouth to protest, but Pops said, "Don't worry, I'll make sure your pancakes stay hot, and I'll make sure everyone else stays in the kitchen. Tell her you've got something important to talk about. She'll stay. Talk to her here in the shop. You'll be more comfortable surrounded by cars."

Sparky nodded. It was true. Pops paused and saw Sparky looking down, wringing his hands. "Sparky, you do want to tell her, don't you?"

He nodded again. "Yeah, Pops, I do. I- I think I'm falling I love with her. Is that normal after only a few months? I mean, I've never even kissed her. Can you fall in love with someone before you've ever kissed them?"

"Sparky, I knew I wanted to marry my wife five minutes after I met her."

"Really?"

"Really." Pops smiled. "I'd say it's a good thing we had this talk then, huh?"

Sparky smiled. "Yeah. Good thing."

Pops picked up a towel and wiped his face, the headed inside for lunch. Sparky looked at the ground, then at the door. "Hey Pops," he said.

Pops turned around. "What is it, Sparky?"

"Thanks."

Pops smiled. "You're welcome."

* * *

_**1257.3 miles away…**_

Notorious WRL fixer Draco Zidune grit his teeth in anger. His incompetent morons that passed for stooges had failed to get him the car he was supposed to win two months ago, and now it had been brought to his attention that not only had they failed to get the car at the poker game, but they had let the little snitch who had gotten the car get away.

"How far?" said Zidune.

"What, boss?"

"How far did she get?"

"Over a thousand miles, boss."

"How could you let her get that far?"

"Please, boss, she lit off the same night she won the car!"

"Enough!" The henchmen cowered in the corner. When the boss got like this it was better to be out of the line of fire. "She didn't win that car, she stole it! She stole it from me! No one steals from me, no one!" And with that he took a priceless Ming vase from his desk and hurled it at the wall, where it shattered into hundreds of small pieces.

"What do you want us to do, Mr. Zidune?" asked a new recruit. Zidune turned and snarled. "I wanted you to get that car for me, no matter what it took. The match was fixed, you were supposed to win it! But did you get it for me? No!"

"Well, what exactly did you want us to do about her?" asked the newbie. "Call her out for cheating better than us in front of everyone else?"

A hush fell over the other henchmen. One didn't talk back to Draco Zidune and live to tell abut it.

Zidune turned and smiled. Everyone but the new recruit recognized the danger in the smile and tried to make themselves as small as possible. Zidune spoke. "What's your name, neophyte?"

Still unaware that he'd even made an error, the new henchman replied without hesitation. "Jared White, sir."

"Jared, do you know who I am?"

"Of course, sir. You are Draco Zidune, notoriously infamous in the criminal underworld for WRL fixing."

"Very good, Jared." Zidune was still smiling, this was just the calm before the storm. "Jared, do you know what they call me in the underworld of the criminal underworld?"

Here, Jared finally hesitated. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to know the answer to this question or not. "I don't know, sir."

"They call me… Nemesis."

Jared paled. He had heard a few stories about Zidune, but it was widely known that Nemesis was the employer you only went to as a last resort. Nemesis had no mercy or forgiveness, and he didn't take kindly to being insulted.

This was Jared's last thought as Zidune pushed a small red button on his desk. The floor underneath Jared White opened beneath him and he fell into blackness. _Just like a comic book_, he thought. _But scarily effective_, as he heard the growls and snapping of jaws of the unknown creatures in the darkness before he blacked out.

Zidune smiled. Neatly done, just as he liked. He turned to his remaining henchmen. "Now," he said softly, "tell me what you do know about the girl's whereabouts."

One stammered out a reply. "She- she's working at Racer Motors, sir."

Zidune laughed. It was almost too perfect. The girl had taken his car to Pops Racer, father of the newly-famous Speed Racer, and had stayed there for months. It was almost like she didn't suspect that anyone was looking for her.

"Go to Racer Motors," Zidune said. "Case the house and the shop. Find out everything you can. Meanwhile, I'll set up a hold near the house, maybe in the city. In a week, I'll contact you and inform you where we will meet and you will tell me everything you know."

"Yes sir," they chorused.

Zidune smiled to himself. "I wonder what the family thinks of her," he mused.

"They love her sir," said one of the men, a long-time employee of Zidune who went by the name of Foley. He'd been working for Zidune for years, and knew it was safe to answer this question. He had information, and it was his responsibility to give it to Zidune. "The whole family has taken her in like one of their own."

"Good," said Zidune. "Anyone have any…special…feelings for her? Speed, maybe?"

"No sir," Foley said. "Speed's still with the piece he kissed at the Prix. The mechanic seems to like her though. They weren't romantically involved the last time I was there, but he certainly cares a great deal about her."

"Good," said Zidune for the second time. "This may not turn out to be quite as big of a mistake on your parts as I originally thought. Boys, if we can arrange for a visit between me and the Racer mechanic, I might be able to persuade him to build me a car for my driver in the upcoming race at Isla Tarsela Sirena."

"Persuade him, boss?" said another henchman.

"Yes, Marcus."

Foley nudged him, and suddenly Marcus understood Mr. Zidune's euphemisms.

"Yes, I'm glad you all understand the possibilities that exist here. Go to the Racers, all of you. Case it, as I told you before, and when I leave you know of when and where, there's something I want you boys to do for me."

"What is it, boss?"

"Bring me that mechanic."

* * *

**Well, that's the end of chapter 3… can't promise anything too soon… but you know I'll try… **

**Read and review please!!!!!!!!!!!!!!**

**Hugs to all of you, faithful readers, (especially Bella, without whom I would still be stuck on plot bunnies for this story and many others)**

**beanie**


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